All In
by Mrs Dionysius O'Gall
Summary: Missing Scene from 5.03 'Written in the Stars'. From Sniffy's Tavern to Luke's bed...A lot of talking, and some not talking...


The sounds of the tavern recede into the background. It's no longer a tavern full of people; it's just him and me, and the faintest tinkling of forks and knives and glasses and plates. I'm acutely aware of only two things right now: Luke's thigh pressed snugly against mine, and that scrap of newsprint he's just handed me.

"Well, man, I will say anything for a cup of coffee," I state as I unfold the scrap of newspaper. "Um...I can't believe you kept this. You kept this in your wallet?"

I look over at him, very uncomfortable, ready to follow up with a quip. But the very serious expression on his face causes me to reconsider. So not a time for mocking, I think to myself.

"You kept this in your wallet," I state.

I've been trying for nearly an hour to keep calm on this, my first date with Luke. The air between us has been fraught with a kind of electric current ever since he got back from Maine. And even before that, over the summer, I sometimes thought it just might be possible to get electrocuted over the phone lines, except we were using cell phones and there's really no lines, and I don't know how the whole electrocution thing would work in that case. And now that he's back, it's like there's a big giant magnet between us and whenever we're just this much far apart, it pulls us together. But so far tonight, it's been surprisingly easy to stay calm, what with all the surprises he keeps sending my way--and they're really good surprises. Like who knew that Luke had a Luke's? And friends!

I continue to stare at the scrap of newsprint in front of me.

"Eight years," he says.

He kept it. That means...he kept it through Rachel, and while married to Nicole...wow.

"Eight years," I parrot back at him, as he takes it from me and returns it to his wallet.

Luke's leg has moved even closer to mine and I've been watching the smile in his eyes, thinking how close he suddenly seems, his thigh still pressed to mine. I am so used to keeping my distance from him, ever since Nicole and then Jason...and the long weeks he was gone; it's still unnerving to be so close to him.

And then he hits me with another surprise. "Lorelai, this thing we're doing here--me, you--I just want you to know I'm in. I am all in."

That one catches me by surprise. I should have known, I think, as he continues, very seriously. "Does that, uh--are you, uh, scared?"

Now that's a loaded question. He's in, all in. Should I say something; ask him what he means? Instead, I find myself uncharacteristically shy and quiet. I want to open my mouth and tell him exactly what I'm feeling, but my face is acting like it's been botoxed into some sort of virginal smile. So much has gone through my head over the last few months since we first kissed, but being all in? Does he mean ALL IN? Wow. He's actually thinking of changing the dynamics of our relationship!

I feel giddy, and am about to break the tension with a quip, when our friendly hosts interrupt us.

---

The drive home is very tense but in a good way. The electricity continues to crackle between us. Luke's got his hands tightly gripped on the steering wheel. Damn, he looks and smells good...and in a perverse way, the tension makes me feel...safe. This has got to be a good thing, no?

"Here we are," he says, pulling into Stars Hollow. He reaches over and awkwardly pats me on the shoulder.

Since we're at the stop light, I turn and look into his eyes. It's really simple, I think, what we have here. A man and a woman staring into one another's eyes. The woman is thinking that she does not know how things are going to end tonight, and quickly averts her eyes. He slowly reaches across the expanse of the truck's cab, smiles, and kisses her on the cheek.

I am such a coward. Time to retreat to the familiar.

"Uh Luke?" I venture...and before I can say the next word, he's read my mind. Or maybe I've got some coffee-addict expression on my face, that only he can read.

"Coffee," he sighs.

"Well," I shrug, "gotta wash down this dessert of death somehow..." I add, nodding at the dessert box in my lap.

"You're not going to be able to sleep tonight, you know..." Luke adds.

Dirty! Is what I mentally add. A girl's gotta have hope, right?

----

I'm twirling the cup around on the counter, my index finger hooked in its handle, when Luke comes over to pour my coffee. I've sat here, at the counter, watching him prepare my coffee, and I've been babbling some nonsense about a quirky little boutique I've recently discovered in Woodbridge.

Luke sighs and pours while I once again lapse into silence, fully expecting a rant on the crassness of commercialism.

My brain is trying very hard to process where this night is headed. Is this just coffee and then I go home? Should I indicate that I am very interested in not calling it a night? How do I do that with Luke? I sneak a glance at him--he's put the coffeepot back on the warmer and is flipping some switches. It's impossible to tell what he's thinking.

Once done with whatever he's finishing up with behind there, he comes around to my side of the counter and leans against it. He's holding the coffeepot in one hand as he gestures with the other.

"C'mon," he nods in the direction of the curtain, "upstairs."

"Really!" I respond, in a tone that is perhaps a little too delighted.

"Uh, I, uh don't want people to get the wrong idea..."

I raise my eyebrow in surprise...

"And think the diner's open..." he quickly recovers.

I follow him up the stairs, careful not to bump into him--he is after all, carrying a whole pot of my elixir of life!

He holds the door for me as I enter, and within minutes, I'm sitting at the table, nursing my second cup. Luke has taken the to-go container for the dessert and is at the counter, rummaging through drawers.

"Mmm," I sigh contentedly, and close my eyes. I kick the shoes off my feet.

He looks over at me from the counter, where he's plating my dessert. He looks kind of annoyed at the sight of my shoes and then looks at my bare feet.

His eyes grow big.

Really! I think to myself. Maybe Luke's got a foot fetish! But his eyes quickly travel up to meet mine. We haven't said a word to each other since entering his apartment; for some reason, I am suddenly shy again. I can't look him in the eye.

He brings dessert to me, and sits down across from me. I smile at him, but the dessert's looking really fine and since I don't dare gobble him up (yet! I think), I attack dessert with gusto. He responds with the slightest of smiles, and continues to watch me.

This is good. We're comfortable; we don't have to fill every moment with chatter.

After a few minutes, during which the only audible sound is me working on my dessert, he clears his throat.

"Lorelai."

I look up, mid-chew, and nod, mouth full.

Well, it's not as if he hasn't seen me like that a gazillion times before!

"Um, you know, you know that you're important to me."

He's not looking at me, and his words come out very slowly, deliberately, and what's he doing to his fingernails? Luke's nervous, I think; the thought makes me giddy. The thought makes me very nervous.

Still mid-chew, I nod again, quickly swallowing.

Say something, my brain commands. So I do.

"I think the horoscope finally gave it away, mister! I mean, a guy carries around something like that..."

"Lorelai!" He's annoyed, and we stare at each other, lapsing again into silence.

I blink first, then decide to encourage him with a small smile.

"Luke?"

"Uh, ya..."

"Me too."

"You too what?"

"You're important to me too," I respond. My voice has become very quiet.

This is one strange game we're playing. I wonder what he'd do if I leaned over and kissed him. That should be OK, right? We've kissed quite a few times now.

I see the tiniest of smiles begin to curl at the corner of his lips, and encouraged by what for Luke amounts to a mid-size grin, I lean over and kiss him...on the cheek? Damn, I missed, at this angle, who can get such things just right?

I do believe his smile just grew a centimeter or is that millimeter? Whatever. Whichever one's smaller...

He leans closer, eyes wide, and says, "Oh, I bet I am."

My mouth, all on its own (something it's very used to, by the way) drops open...and I'm speechless.

But I'm Quick-Draw McGilmore and recover quickly. "Luke! You think I just enjoy your company for the coffee?" I retort while simultaneously pulling the cup closer to me.

"Is that what we're doing here, enjoying each other's company..." Luke responds dryly.

I giggle.

"Lorelai."

His voice sounds really serious now; I look at him and not only does he look really serious, but he looks hot enough to make me stop breathing for a second.

"You look so beautiful tonight," he says.

"Thank you," I manage to reply, smiling demurely in spite of myself. Many men have called me beautiful, but for some reason, this time it seems important. "Must be the soft lighting in your lovely apartment," I quip after a beat.

"Lorelai, please, be serious here for a moment," he says, his voice lower than ever.

The tone of his voice makes parts of my body start to feel very tingly and warm.

"If I told you that I didn't want to come over here just for coffee..." I begin.

"You didn't?" he says, tentatively.

"Well, I'd be lying if I didn't admit to my deep attraction to your excellent coffee," I begin to babble, and why is my voice all nervous-sounding?

Before I can finish, Luke stands, takes a step towards me, and I feel his mouth on my own. And he's not hesitating. This is an uber-frog-prince kiss. My eyes must be closed, because all I know is that I feel his hands come up to cradle my face. Oh, this is a damn good kiss. Insistent, but not overpowering. Some softness, but overall, quite firm. I have no control anymore, as my lips part in response to his tongue's insistence.

And suddenly, he pulls back and leaves me standing there, like Scarlet O'Hara, mouth open, wanting more.

Frosty Luke is back, as he sits back down and I follow suit, confused.

He doesn't waste any time continuing our talk. "Do you really want to be involved with me?"

Where's this coming from? Before he can get another word in, I sputter some sort of inane response, but once again there's that look...letting me know I'd better shut up.

He continues, something about him not being enough for me and the diner being confining, and how the world was waiting and I want more than he can give and when did Luke become so analytical and turn into Rory?

I search his eyes again; he has the same look on his face as he did at Sniffy's when he asked if I was scared.

"Luke," I intervene. "What...where's this coming from, Luke? I've never once told you that I wasn't happy here with my life...if I wanted all that other stuff, I certainly wouldn't be living here."

"I've watched you, Lorelai. You let people only get so close to you, and then you..."

"What?" I add.

He continues, ignoring my interruption. "The whole town's right, you know. You get just so close and then you push people away. You've been pushing me away for years..."

"Eight," I softly reply.

"Eight years, Lorelai."

"Well what about you?" I retort, angry now. It's been a while since I raised my voice like this. "You got yourself married, Luke, married! I go on vacation with my kid and come back only to find that my best friend, the man I'm in l…that I'll never have my chance with you!"

The strangest look passes over his face. I've said too much, and yet not enough.

Luke closes his eyes and I realize that this is indeed it. A watershed. If we were on TV, there'd be angel choruses and classical music and...I scoot my chair closer to his, and reach out and take his right hand in both of mine.

I raise his hand to my lips, which is quite an undertaking, because for some odd reason, my hands and arms are trembling. I press a soft kiss onto his hand, and then turn it palm-side-up and start to kiss it again. Mid-kiss, he pulls me against him and looks down at my face. His finger brushes a tear away.

Wait one second...where'd that tear come from?

I blink, and discover that my eyes are indeed filling with unshed tears. As I sigh, he pulls me to my feet and we are both standing. His chest looks so inviting at this late hour. I lean my head against it, and murmur, "Luke."

I feel his body begin to shake, and that oddly makes me feel good. Like we're both suffering. I then feel his fingers slide up my sides, over my shoulders, and into my hair. He laces them, supporting my head, and leans down to me. I mimic his motions, and suddenly my hands are clasped around the back of his head, toying with his hair.

"I told you I was all in," he says, and that declaration causes me to start shaking in anticipation.

I can think of nothing now but him.

"Do you think you could...stay?" he asks, huskily.

I have a sudden moment of clarity. What has all our bantering, our...flirting...and closer than best friends friendship been leading up to, but this? This moment, in an apartment, with the world collapsed down to just the two of us, not Lorelai and Luke, but a woman and a man.

He clears his throat again. "Please. Stay?"

"Yes." I don't think he heard me, so I repeat myself. "Yes."

He breathes deeply, and I lean forward to bury my face against his chest. His arms slowly tighten around my body, and he holds me tenderly. I return the gesture, wrapping my arms around his waist. My hands play with his belt, which lies snug against his back.

I feel a finger lifting my chin towards his face, and he kisses me again, very slowly and thoroughly.

I've enjoyed two kinds of Luke-kisses up to this moment. There were the two passionate first-time kisses from the inn's trial run. And then there are the businesslike pecks we've started exchanging when we meet each other during the day. But tonight's kisses surpasses all of those.

Who knew that Luke could kiss like this!

We continue for what seems a long time; tongues joining the fray, noses nuzzling the hollows of our necks, ferreting out the pheromones that must have drawn us together. Thoughts of coffee and dessert flee my brain and all I can think of is how to get my tongue into his mouth and devour him. And that's just the first course.

Success! My tongue is on its own quest, and has somehow gotten Luke to part his lips and allow me inside. A banquet for me to feast on. I want to find his tongue and memorize his taste.

My god, Luke's responding, and in a very good way! His tongue strokes mine, first the sides and then from underneath, and suddenly I feel him tracing my gums. The man shoulda been a dentist, I think. And I also feel something hard, his knee, pushing against my legs, trying to pry them apart.

He doesn't have to try too hard.

I need to breathe. So I pull back, still wrapped around him from the neck down, and look up.

This is a Luke I've not seen before. It's a Luke I fall in love with at once. I could have waited forever for this and the look on his face would have so been worth the wait.

"Wow," is all I manage.

What the...? Before I know what he's doing, he's got me in his arms and is carrying me to his bed. I know, I know, given the size of his apartment, not the most impressive of feats, but still...

When he gets to the bed, instead of putting me down, he turns and sits, keeping me on his lap. Suddenly, I think he's my lifesaver and I encircle his neck with my arms, holding on to him with all my strength.

He asks, "Are you sure about staying?"

Not Mr. Insecure again, I think.

"I'm still here," I answer, hoping to encourage him with my smile, as I simultaneously play with his hair.

"That's good," I hear him say. And he's not saying it with just words, either. On his lap, I can feel what he's thinking, and I'm sufficiently impressed.

But now my confidence starts its downhill descent. This is it, Lorelai. You should go. He couldn't possibly want someone like you.

Then confident Lorelai peeks in for a moment, and reminds me that if I just let us, this will be a very good thing. For the first time in my life, I'm gonna stop this runaway train. Tonight, I'm going to sleep with the last man I'll ever be with. That whole package: it's right here, I'm sitting on it, in more ways than one.

I think he's waiting for me to talk.

"You asked me if I was scared, Luke," I state.

"Are you? What are you scared of? It's just me...your coffee guy..." he murmurs.

Whom am I kidding? Of course, I'm scared. A man tells you he's all in, that can mean only one thing.

I nod my head. "I'm scared Luke, that this--between us--" and I lean away and mimic his earlier gesture from Sniffy's, "is going to change everything. That it'll all go wrong and then we won't be able to stay friends."

"I'll move if that happens," Luke replies.

Don't be silly, I think, as he continues.

"I'm so tired of this push and pull, between us--" and now he gestures. "It was so hard just to get you to stand still, and now we're jumping back and forth about this..."

I don't respond; rather, I look into his eyes. God, serious, loving, nice Luke is so great! I mean I love grumpy Luke just as much as the next person, and sarcastic Luke is always a treat, and full-on ranting Luke is a real turn-on, but this Luke...I see how much he cares in his eyes and realize there's no room for doubt here. We both have to be all in. We both are all in.

"Luke..."

"Let me lock the door." He slides me off his lap, gets up quickly, and strides to his apartment door and secures it. I'm left standing on the floor in front of the bed.

And he's back, standing in front of me, eyes burning through me. "Lorelai," he says in that low husky voice. I'm beginning to think that I just might come the next time he uses that voice.

God help me, I'm having sexual thoughts about Luke. No wait, I'm about to have sex with Luke.

I have never heard his voice so filled with emotion. "God, Luke..." I realize that I'm completely helpless when it comes to this man. I'm shaking, I'm scared, and I'm excited at the same time.  
He pulls me towards him by the hands and falls back onto the bed; taking me with him as I lean into his touch. I lean down to kiss his lips, then his chin, and along his jawline and then back to his lips.

I watch him, and follow the path his eyes take. They're raised, watching the rapid rise and fall of my chest. It's been a long time since my body has reacted this way, to anyone.

I realize that I long for him to use his hands exactly where his eyes are focused.

He must be reading my thoughts, because I hear a gruff "Off," as he tugs at my shirt.

I sit back and pull my top off as his hands reach up my back for the bra clasp. But I can't wait; the bra is one of those new stretchy deals from Victoria's Secret, so I simply pull it up and over my head and fling it who knows where.

It's so very quiet in here. I don't know if I'm holding my breath. All I know is that his hands are suddenly all over my breasts, and he's touching me and I could die happy just watching as his thumbs trace first their shape and then home in more aggressively on my nipples. I sneak a look down at him and he seems very calm yet serious. His hands are warm, so warm.

"Luke," I gasp, as he continues, "Oh! Oh Luke!"

"Lorelai," he whispers, his fingers tracing circles.

Then he pinches my nipples.

"Oh God!" I cry.

He's maddeningly taking his time and I apparently have no idea what a girl's supposed to do in this situation.

Already, I think, he's spent more time on foreplay than anyone else has in the past.

As he continues, my hands, as if on remote, finally spring into action and move down to his belt and fumble, as they unbuckle the belt and loosen his waistband.

I lick my lips. "Too many clothes on you," I whisper, my voice now the hoarse one. I have this sudden desire to just press my naked body against his naked body.

He seems to share my opinion, because suddenly, we're both standing up somehow, next to the bed. I look at him and wonder just how hungry I must look, and realize I don't care. I quickly grasp the hem of his shirt, pull it open and push it back off his shoulders, and toss it to the floor. He grabs his t-shirt and pulls it up over his head, then quickly strips off what remains of my clothes.

"Beautiful," he breathes, looking at me.

I respond by reaching for his zipper. Efficiently, I slide his pants and boxers down his hips.

"Back at ya," I respond, my eyes unable to tear themselves away from the sight of his arousal. So this is Luke…

When he's undressed, he turns to me, places his hands on my shoulders, and says, "You don't have to..."

What? Is he crazy?

"Last chance."

I know what he means, and don't know whether to be grateful or annoyed that he thinks I'm a tease.

"Luke," I murmur in response, ""All in," I state.

"Um," he says and reaches across to a drawer, pulling out a small packet.

"Allow me," I whisper, grabbing the condom from him. I rip the wrapper open and look for the trashcan and Luke gently takes it from me and tosses it in the right direction.

I turn my attention to the other Luke, and reach out to stroke his length.

He's shaking, his hands on my shoulders as I slowly pull the condom up his length. I'm even more aroused as I realize he trusts me to take care of business.

Only now do I dare look him in the eyes again; we're about to truly cross the line. I don't care; wild smurfs could run through the apartment, but I have never wanted anyone more than I want him, here, now.

"Luke--"

That one word from me is my consent. I know that he understands what I am trying to say. He gives my shoulders a squeeze, then once again places a forefinger under my chin, tilting it up to him. We kiss our way back down onto the bed.

We sink onto the bed, side by side, facing each other, and his finger, his impossibly long finger, might I add, traces a line from the hollow of my throat down to my breasts. It meanders over to first one breast, then the other, brushing over my nipples, then both hands cup my breasts and gently begin to knead them.

Here's where I once again thank my lucky stars that I'm with a diner guy. See, he's really good at baking bread, and doesn't use a machine, and well, all that careful attention to his craft sure is paying off now...

I close my eyes; basking in the sensation. And I hear sounds...and am struck that I'm the one making them. His name, over and over...I move my hands to his hair, hanging on tightly.

I don't want him to think I am neglecting him, so I lean forward and start kissing his chest, and my mouth makes its way down his chest, to his belly button.

But his hand stops me once again as he asks, "Still scared?"

"No. All in, Luke, all in," I declare.

"Then show me, Lorelai," he commands.

----

The lovers I've had, well let's just say, I wasn't with them for their stellar between-the-sheets ability. Christopher just never lost that aura of sixteen-year-old fumbling, Max was overly concerned with technique, Jason was self-absorbed, and the others, well who can remember.

Luke, on the other hand, leaves me fascinated. From the get-go, it's not about me, but about him, but I quickly learn that I'm the one who's truly getting lucky tonight.

He shudders as my fingers brush across his erection. I push him so that he is on his back, and continue my handiwork as his hips arch up in surprise. I close my right hand around him, giving him a firm but gentle squeeze.

The master of the monosyllable groans, and I notice he's closed his eyes.

"Dontcha wanna watch, Luke?" I tease.

"Wicked woman," he replies.

I smile at him. And suddenly, it's show time.

I rise on my knees and straddle him. He groans and I continue, positioning myself at just the right angle. I feel my body clasping him, as I move up and down his length.

Luke's hips jerk forward as I move, pushing into me. That encourages me to pick up the pace, moving up and down, quicker. My breath has turned into short gasps, "Oh oh" intermixed with "Luke, oh Luke." I am senseless with excitement.

And then, who knows when, it's over. All I know is that I am smiling. He pulls me in towards him, and we snuggle, together for the first time. I play with his hand, and go back to where the evening started.

"I can't believe you kept that horoscope."

He's back to quasi-grumpy Luke. "You're just lucky I never clean out my wallet."

But I'm not having any of that now that I've seen making-love-Luke. "You can't take it back now. You've exposed yourself. You've been pining for me."

He chuckles. "I have not been pining."

"I'm your Ava Gardner."

"God help me," he answers.

Oh you're so gonna need someone's help, alright, I think, as I anticipate what else is in store for him, for us, this special night. 


End file.
